A Trip to the Heart of UP Of Second Chances and History Repeating Patterns

Is that where the lagoon is?
You see, it’s the second time I’ve been to the lagoon. The first time I went here during my first week in UP, I didn’t know what it was called. Back then I thought of it as a nice place to hang out. I really love the sight of trees and the place was a beautiful sight. I really enjoyed my first walk in the pathways of the lagoon. It’s actually sad to think I did not get to visit it again ‘til now because of certain rumors—which are actually true.
I see a bunch of kids on a platform. They’re probably rehearsing for a contest. Carol Fest perhaps? Not far away are three students walking on the path. The girl in the group is in black, just like the girl in a group of three walking behind me. I can tell because I just passed by them.
I’m a few steps from the beginning of the path. I see the green grass, the curvy pathway paved on it.
Now here where the three students were, my surroundings suddenly seemed different. Just a minute ago I was on the roadside. Vehicles came and blew smoke…now it all smells like grass. I smell plants, but not a garden.
Here is where the lagoon starts.
The bunch of kids is students rehearsing after all. They’re practicing a choreographed piece. “Dombre dombre aahh” they chant.
I remember when I used to rehearse for a speech choir in high school. Our main chant was then “Umbalumyung bayung bayung.” All our hard work paid off. We were able to perform a well-choreographed piece at the quadrangle. I-Yanga, and our then president Ronniel Florendo.
These students may take a while.
At my left I see a large trunk with smaller stumps around it. The size of the one in the middle is just amazing. I wonder what kind of tree it is.
This lagoon is terrible. Black water? This is just bad. At least the trees make up for it.
Oh, it’s cement. They’re all made of cement. It’s disappointing, but I have to admit that who ever was responsible did a good job. These look like stumps from a few feet away. I guess the shady surroundings aid a lot in creating the illusion.
Now you may be wondering why I’m here at the lagoon. After all, I did say I had no plans of coming here again. Well, I’m observing the surroundings for a class paper. Look, here comes my classmates now. Some of my female classmates gather on the table as well. There are no more seats left. The others wander elsewhere.
The girls in the platform are doing a formation. Pretty much like a cheerleading pyramid though far from it at the same time. The girl in the leftmost side puts her leg on top of her classmate’s back who is on all fours. Her left arm is perpendicular to her thighs while her right is freely dropped at her side.
Those two guys were the first to come out of the room. One of them utters a curse.
It’s now 12nn. It’s about time I look around.
To my northwest are nice trees. They’re bluish white in color, like those you see in movies when it’s wintertime; no leaves and all that. I must say they do stand out. For the reason being they’re the first I notice. I can also see that my classmates are walking around, looking around. One is standing under a tree, taking notes. The others are as well. As for my seatmates here, they’re watching the rehearsals but I’m not saying that they’re not observing—for they are.
I can’t see Oble from here. What building is that again?
It’s Susan from AOISA walking. What is she doing here?
I met Susan last semester at the Faculty Center. I was trying to contact my cousin when she approached me. She’s from abroad, Colorado I think. So she’s asking me if I’d like to spend a conversation with her about the love of God and all that. I’m already ministry involved in a local church and I told her about it. She said her goodbye then left. She never talked to me again though we meet from time to time.
I want to finish the pathway. Perhaps I should start walking. Hey, it’s “I am a Filipino” by Carlos P. Romulo the kids are rehearsing, the same piece we had in my high school freshman year.
Do you hear the birds chirping? I cannot see them but I know they’re here.
I want to write Dec. 3 on this big cemented stump table as a reply to a vandalism conversation. It says:

Patayin natin ang karibal,
Para walang sagabal!
=Dec. 01, 2009=
=Tuesday=

Sige, patayin natin,
Dec. 2, 2009
Nah, I’ll just walk around. Besides, I’m not exactly into vandalism. Look, a ‘Happy’ peanut wrapper.
I realize I don’t want to follow the path after all. I’ll just walk to the left, I’ve never gone there before. I hear a violin playing.
There’s a monument here by Abueva and sons ’96. Are they Chinese? Ha-ha. I learned from CL40 that Chinese businessmen (aren’t they all?) indicate the name of the founder + sons since it’s always a family business in their case. I live in a Chinese community and I know exactly what she meant by Tan & Sons, Lim & Sons, and the like. I see a lot of these around the corner. (Hey look! There’s Oble.) As for Abueva and Sons, they’re business here is a sculpture of three women holding the Philippine flag. Well, there’s nothing more to see here and this is where the lagoon would end. Do I go left or go back?
I’ve never had a good look at Oble before. What for anyway? Bah, left it is.
Here is the entrance and my way to that place. I’m standing between two white-washed walls with red margins at the bottom. With me is a ‘Sugo’ peanut wrapper and a Y-shaped twig. I don’t suppose they’ll be accompanying me if I walk on. They’re lost. I walk by the right wall.
There are big black ants walking on the top of the wall. It’s not exactly a wall by the way, it’s not that high and it’s just the end of this sort of arena. The ants have silver linings on their bodies. It was just last week when I first saw this kind of ants; for the second time I come across them. I was coming from my CW10 class (the class I’m writing this for—well, mostly) and I had a cup of coffee in my hand courtesy of an event at FC. I was waiting outside room 121 at Palma when I saw the ant. It was all alone and I tried to pour coffee on it. I did not succeed.
Like that ant, I’m alone right now. I don’t see anyone. When I came, a guy was just walking out. It’s a vast green field and my new acquaintances at the entrance had abandoned me just as I predicted. I miss PNU all of a sudden. When my mom was still studying there she used to bring us along. Her classes were on Saturday and instead of leaving me and my siblings at home, she’ll bring us along. I have lots of fun memories there. The one thing I love most about PNU is their vast green grass field. I’ll just get out of here.
I see red flowers on trees, yellow ones on high shrubs. I’m not using the path again. I see that the grass is dead. I’ll just leap over this part of the land. It might not be so safe. Our professor warned us about probable accidents. By the way, remind me to come by FC1013 later. I still have to submit a paper.
I’m now on the paved way, here at the outskirts of the lagoon. I turn around and follow the path.
I’m thinking of eating the mangoes in my bag. I just bought them this morning at Philcoa. I got them for P20 from one of the vendors in front of Mercury Drugstore. I lost 2lbs by the way. I take my measurement every week or two at Mercury. Last week, I gained four.
The same classmate is still on the same spot. She was there when I started walking. I wonder if she even moved. Maybe she’s doing an essay on a spatial perspective or something. That long-haired classmate of mine was my seatmate during the first day. She was playing with a PSP. I haven’t seen her use it again since.
I hear someone approaching; I have to stand aside—but not too much for I do not have much safe ground. He has just passed by. A yellow butterfly is fluttering on a flowerless low shrub.
Isn’t that Carmille over there? I don’t remember if she was wearing red but I can see that she’s wearing a ribbon. That I know. She’s my groupmate and her signature outfit I a comfortable tee, pants, rubber shoes, bagpack, and ribbon. It must be her. I don’t really think it’ll be a good idea to approach her.
The bunch of kids isn’t done yet with their rehearsals. Speaking of which, I have rehearsals. It’s been really hectic and I feel bad I can’t attend as much as I need to.
The smell is just terrible. Are all lagoons like these? I’ve never been to any before except this one at the heart of UP. The pavement is even cracked. It’s not safe here—psychologically even.
There’s a short, narrow footbridge in front of me and ahead is deep grass. I can’t find a way to the Epsilon Theatrum. I don’t intend to come closer to the rehearsing students but I would love to explore a little more. How could people watch performances on that platform? For clearly, there is no place to sit. There’s mud, grass, and puddles of dirty everywhere. The stage is good enough for a small audience though. A small performance will only require a small audience anyway. The students are running from the top again. How do I get there? There’s another foot bridge to my left. It’s a log this time. To my right is a footbridge that looks like a crutch. I’ll go with the left one.
Someone is approaching again, I have to move aside.
What? The log is cement after all. I really have a bad set of eyes. Well, at least I know that it will hold. Do I really want to take this risk?
Last semester in my Comm3 class, our professor held a parlor game. You know, the personality quiz type. There were a lot and one thing I remember well is a result that says I take risks. It’s true to some extent.
“Courage!” the speech choir shouts. It’s the only distinct sound I hear right now. Do I go?
Yeah.
There are a lot of flying objects here. Down there are 3 white flowers, the prettiest ones I’ve seen yet in the lagoon. Everything is foul: black water, the reeking odor, dark leaves, lifeless twigs, and brown insects. The set of flowers is such a beautiful sight, I have to take a picture of it and keep it as a reminder-slash-souvenir. I’m glad I took the risk but I choose to stop here. I’m going back. I hear the waters and their music to my ears. No, why is the water dark? Where has its beauty gone?
To my left are two yellow butterflies fluttering. They’re so small but they bring life to thee black mud and mossy puddles of water.
There are too many insects. There are very small ones and have they not been in a grou, I wouldn’t have noticed.
I hear an insect. It’s a cricket and its sound brings pain to my ears.
It’s all so different from Montalban. The sights in the mountain are very beautiful. It’s sad to think that I hold more memories of what is not beautiful there. I remember every piece of bad mosaics. It’s so different from what I see now.
I hear the violin again. What song is it? It overpowers the insects, the choir, the water, there is no background anymore. The vibrating strings enchant me.
I cannot stand here and listen. I still have lots to do. I face my right and I feel that I am all alone. Over there is someone walking. He’s in black but he’s soon gone. To my left, I know that life will meet me. Reality would strike and I’ll be back to my life.
I have to go back. I need to.

Power of the Tongue

“It always pays to be suspicious of words and to be wary of them”

Something always lies between a person’s words. Consciously or not, a person affects others by what he speaks of. Normally, a person would quote something he made up in his head, or have gained from what he has already learned, and that alone creates conflict. Everyone is unique in practically all ways, let alone way of thinking. Ideas of one person either clash or bond with another’s. Mere words form an invisible field around a certain group of people and in most cases that initiates something to take place.
Vaclav Havel’s speech, “A Word About Words,” interestingly tackles how words may come about in order to settle the course of history. It is true that a lot of people try to make the world a better place—the fact is, the general public desires such thing—it’s just that certain people have entirely different theories on how to make such take place. Although, one must admit that such disparate ways still meet at certain points one way or another. After all, it’s still he same goal, may it be for personal or public gain.
The miracle of language, as any department of science would testify to, started from the desire to communicate. If it were true that man evolved without the patterns of speech, the first words were probably business-related. After all, every other human concern can be and is better expressed by gesture and therefore didn’t need words. From there on, language evolved and is still developing today. Language aided philosophy and now we have the art of Mathematics and Science. It contributed most of course to Literature which is dependent on words rather than numbers and symbols. Of course, in spite of all this knowledge language has aided us in having access to, we have to admit that there is a whole lot more yet unknown to man. The use of words is man’s response to such—prayer, recitation, speech, incantations, expression of desires, thoughts, and inquiry, all these uttered and written with varieties of language.
Words are particularly powerful in its way. Have you ever noticed how certain sentences discreetly grouped together make a man go mad? I mean, there are songs and texts that make a man kill. There are books which captivate a man’s whole being and some people actually devote themselves to a certain someone all because of the power they feel in that someone’s words. Words can persuade, convince, prove, testify....and not only authorities take part in executing certain people who serve as threats—people who speak against their activities, or lest they verbalize what is not yet spoken of.
No one may be able to measure neither the height nor the width of the power of the tongue but history hints a vague figure. Many times in the course of history did groups of people stand up to say something. Even more times did a community march off to express their belief on what was spoken of. Many times people have gone to battle, even wars, because of something another party has expressed. Something does entitle words to such power, but where does it come from—do words entitle themselves to it or those speaking or hearing such give it power? Of any way, it can’t be denied that words have the power to move.
Words do not change but meaning that accompanies them do. It all depends on whom, how, and when words are used. As Havel would put it, words move up and down the meter humble-arrogant. Words give either hope or despair. “The tongue that brings healing is a tree of life, but a deceitful tongue crushes the spirit” it says in Proverbs 15:4. Variety of meanings pertaining to one word is inevitable but a great word losing its sense is a sad thought. What’s in a word anyway? It’s just a bunch of letters put together in order to represent, even more, a vague thought. Even the simplest word such as ‘box’ invites uncertainty around it. Language itself is a mystery. Isn’t it a wonder then how man is able to put together a mystery and make it obsolete with the use of words?
Even after everything that has been discussed, one must realize that his self is still the source of every letter, every syllable coming out of the mouth. Therefore words cannot be blamed. It all goes back to the source and how he is able to convey the message he wants to express. After all, conflicts do arise while the message is being sent to its receiver. In conclusion, one has to take responsibility for his own words.
“The tongue has the power of life and death and those who love it will eat its fruit”

Pointing the Telescope

I have never been familiar with telescopes; I might have used one twice at most. I have the least idea on what it feels like to look to somewhere afar. With what has been though, I have the most experience. I usually act on impulse then think things over after. It sounds silly but it’s true. So I guess I have an idea when Schopenhauer says “Point the telescope.” As a matter of fact I do but it’s pretty much the other way around. He pretty much tells it like looking at the present as if it were the past. Quite different from live ‘one day at a time’. And I’m a person who lives looking at the future; I miss much of the present really. So if I were to follow Arthur Schopenhauer, it will take lots of adjustment. The whole concept is pretty enticing. Now what do I think?

If I were to think from the future, which is the opposite of what I usually do, I would see things based on probable circumstances. I have a good sense of intuition which means I’ll have an easy time figuring out what is most likely to happen. Although given all of these, I’m still too much of a thinker. I’m not exactly very intuitive and like what I’ve already said. I’m better at looking to the future and not from it. Of course, that is the purpose of philosophers. Some of them exist to explain what already is and just elaborates matters people already know by heart. People who still have to experience them get advantage in these. For others, they philosophize to figure out what would be better. Hence, the political ideologies of communism and fascism et cetera. What Schopenhauer suggests is not exactly out of the ordinary but it is not so usual. There are not many everyday people who perform like he suggests. As for me, I’m obviously not one of them.

I’m more of an emotional, sentimental person but not overly-dramatic and I could make use of the function of mind ruling over the heart. Sometimes, or many times, I do things even when I think it’s wrong because I feel that it is the right thing to do. And what do you know, my intuition fails! Well not exactly... Uhm, is intuition of the mind or of the heart? Either way, I think a lot but I usually act the way I feel.

When I think of it, what Schopenhauer suggests is very beneficial. It rings better judgment to me. But I don’t really think I’ll do as he says—at least not in the near future.

I wish I had a telescope. I’ll look at what I can’t see and try to look up and see the stars. I don’t want to watch the present. I’m already living it and have enough of it. The future has it’s element of surprise. In today, I have nothing to prove since everything is laid bare. As for the future, I’ll be proven either right or wrong. The past is behind me, there’s no turning back now. The future is what lies ahead.

On Lightness and Weight

The world is a trap. Now that’s a statement. This is perhaps one of the most striking things Milan Kundera has said in his novel “The Unbearable Lightness of Being.” On the other side of this statement is the fact that man has free will. He can make his own choices particular to his own liking on how he would want his own circumstances to turn out. But there’s a problem. Man has no control on all things. That is how the trap sets in. Perhaps the trap is free will itself. Nature throws anything it desires at us and we can do nothing about it. We have no control over what people do, say, and we have the least say on how they would affect us. We may have control on the affective level (emotional and mental) but with particular actions such us giving of sarcastic remarks, bad-mouthing, ruining our territories and personal spaces...they will do what they want and force their own free will. Now we have another trap, one thing we would have to go with the flow with or struggle against and anything in between. The world’s a whole jungle of free wills preying on one another for survival making the whole picture a set of trap. Even if man did not possess free will, the setting would be a trap because he’s forced to do what he is hard-wired to do. Being in trap is perhaps nature’s call. One might as well say that the whole universe is a trap.
On lightness—isn’t that supposed to be a great feeling? The term itself suggests ease. In the end it bites back though. Like any very light object carried in the wind, a man cuts every attachment to society, allowing himself to move on from one thing to another easily. This though means one has nothing to look back on, no past to hold on to and life loses it meaning. It is in attaching ourselves into something concrete that we find meaning in our lives. It is without concretion that we find ourselves easily moving along and we have to move on from our past right? The past though is what makes us. We are what we are because of what we were. After all, we need not detach ourselves from the past to be able to move on. Maturity and constant learning are the two things necessary to move on from a painful past or grow out of a childish one and so on. Is it better to be heavy then since it’s okay? Not so much. Holding on to what is and what was does not do so well. Neither does holding fast on what is yet to come. Things need to be open in order to move through life and heavy attachment defeats this need. Either way, meaning is found on heaviness but man is particularly light because escape is the most deluding of all and that is found in lightness. We need meaning and concretion but want escape. In the end, we find ourselves in the trap of our own selves. What a pity for man!
We need to grow out our immaturities though and escape escapism, learn which things to hold on to and which ones to let go. I wouldn’t exactly patronize Tomas because of his vive but I would say that he is the best character among all because of his flexibility. To be able to freely course through life, we would need that resiliency learned through time. It is only by experience after all that we find out which we personally need. The least we can do is think things over carefully. What has man to do but think, work, love, and have faith anyway? It is perhaps best if we have faith in ourselves, our own decisions and find meaning within us. It is we that gives meaning to things after all.